The Belt of Seven Totems: A Story of Massasoit

by Kirk Munroe

As he did this the dreadful aspect of the face on which he was looking suggested another that he had seen but a week earlier. It had been that of a man drowned in the Shatemuc and brought to the lodge of Kaweras. To all appearance he was dead, and yet the old arrow-maker had restored him to life. Nahma remembered perfectly what was done at that time, for he had closely watched every operation, and had even assisted Kaweras in his efforts. Now, in his despair over the present situation, but feeling that he could not yield to it without making some attempt at its betterment, he set to work upon the Beaver exactly as Kaweras had done with the drowned man. He turned the body on its face, drew forward the tongue, and cleared the mouth of froth. Then by rolling the body on its side and back again, at the same time applying a gentle pressure to back and breast, he forced air into and expelled it again from the lungs, thus producing an artificial breathing. After that he sought to restore circulation by rubbing upward along the legs. In all his efforts he was without hope of success and only worked for the sake of doing something. He was therefore utterly amazed as well as overjoyed to detect in his patient a slight gasping for breath. He could scarcely believe he had heard aright until it was repeated, and then he knew that the Beaver was still to be counted among those who lived.

Without thought of the danger from probable enemies, Nahma sprang to his feet, started towards the lake for water, and had gone half-way before he recalled that he had nothing in which to fetch it. Upon this he ran back, and picking up the still unconscious form of his companion, staggered to the beach with it in his arms. On his way he ran across a canoe concealed in a clump of bushes, but paid no attention to it for the moment.

As he laid his burden on the sand and glanced up to see if they were still safe from the presence of enemies, he detected a vague form some distance up the beach that disappeared within the forest even as he looked. It must of course be a Huron warrior, and doubtless others were with him. In that case to remain where they were meant certain destruction, and there was but one way to save his helpless companion as well as himself. The canoe that he had just discovered would at least bear them away from the treacherous forest and give them a fighting chance for their lives in the open.

In another minute Nahma had launched the light craft, placed his comrade inside, and was paddling furiously out over the lake. He had not gone more than one hundred yards when a series of yells from behind, and a flight of arrows sent with deadly intent, showed that his escape was discovered. Most of the arrows fell short, and none of them inflicted any damage. At the same time Nahma, glancing back, thought he saw other canoes coming down the coast.

It was now so nearly dark that all objects were indistinct, and if he could only maintain his lead for a short time longer he might still evade his pursuers. So the tired youth infused new energy into his paddling and urged his craft forward with redoubled speed. As he knew nothing of the lake, he had no idea where to look for the great rock beside which Sacandaga was to spend the night, nor was the Beaver in any condition to afford him information. So he held a course as far as possible from both shores and continued his paddling until nearly midnight, when he was forced by sheer exhaustion to give it over.

Dark as was the night, our lad could still distinguish the darker forms of occasional islands as he passed them, and at length drawing cautiously in towards one of these, he made a landing. In all this time the Beaver had been slowly struggling back to life, but he was still devoid of strength or a knowledge of his surroundings. So Nahma prepared as well as he could a bed of branches and grass, to which he bore his comrade. He also dragged up the canoe and turned it on its side to provide shelter from a drizzle of chill rain that was beginning to fall. Having completed these simple preparations, the youth ate a handful of parched corn drawn from his wallet, and lying down beside the Beaver was almost instantly fast asleep.

In regard to the necessaries of life the American of that day was in no degree removed from the beasts of the field. Like them he could thrive upon the natural products of the forest, and he also found its shelters sufficient for his needs even in the most inclement weather. With materials for a feast at hand he feasted; but when they were lacking he went without food uncomplainingly and for incredible lengths of time. If in the present instance our lad had dared allow himself the luxury of a fire he would quickly have acquired all the comforts of a home, including an abundance of cooked food, a good bed, warmth, and light. As it was he accepted cold, wet, hunger, and a most uncomfortable resting-place as things liable to be encountered at any time in the ordinary course of events.

The remainder of the night passed without incident, and by dawn Nahma was once more alert. His first move was to climb a tall tree that stood close at hand and take a comprehensive survey of the lake. Seeing it thus for the first time by daylight, he was impressed by its marvellous beauty. Its blue waters were dotted with islands all wooded and blending every shade of green. On both sides forest-covered hills rose abruptly from the shore, and back of them towered mountains higher than any he had ever seen. The lake was nowhere more than a mile or two in width, and to the northward it narrowed rapidly.

Having gazed as long as he dared on the outspread beauties of the scene, and satisfied himself that nothing was in motion on the face of the waters, the youth descended from his observatory and proceeded to make ready a breakfast. He was tired of parched corn, and his ravenous appetite demanded something more substantial. He even decided to run the risk of a fire. So he gathered a small quantity of dry, hard wood that would burn with the least amount of smoke, and, after an exasperating struggle with flints and tinder, caught a spark that was finally fanned into a brisk blaze. With the making of a fire the hardest part of his breakfast-getting was ended, although he had as yet nothing to cook. Five minutes later, however, he was in possession of a large pickerel and two good-sized bass, all of which had been enticed within striking distance of his arrows by a bait of worms. These fish wrapped in green leaves were buried under a bed of coals, and while they were cooking Nahma gathered berries.